


Medical Considerations #7: Divide and Conquer

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Gen, Missing Scene, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-07 03:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10351398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS: Divide and ConquerExamines the fallout from the revelations made in Divide and Conquer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Medical Considerations: Divide and Conquer

##  Medical Considerations: Divide and Conquer

##### Written by OzK   
Comments? Write to me at [bosskaren@ozemail.com.au](mailto:bosskaren@ozemail.com.au)

  


**EPILOGUE for _Divide and Conquer_**

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. 

Given the luxury of time, distance and liberal slugs of a fine malt whiskey, we look back upon those defining, pivotal moments in our lives and say: Ah ha! Yes. Of course. It was so _obvious._ Why didn't I _see_? 

If we're lucky, those defining, pivotal moments concern something wonderful. Why didn't I _see,_ we ask ourselves, and chuckle, and shake our heads at the gentle foibles of humanity. 

If we're not, the question haunts us. Steals our sleep and carves fresh wounds in the soft underbellies of our hearts. 

Why didn't I _see,_ we cry, and beat our fists against the past. 

Of all the deaths that hurt us in those two days, it was Martouf's that cut most deeply. If only we'd thought to ask if all the Tok'ra had been tested. If only we hadn't assumed they'd taken care of everything. If only I hadn't allowed my personal dislike of Anise to keep me from really talking to her. 

If only, if only, if only. 

If only it hadn't been Sam. 

But it was, and nothing any of us can do will ever change that. Like so much else that happens in this crazy job, it's a case of deal with it, and move on. 

Somebody died. Another funeral. Not the first, not the last. Learn the lessons that hindsight has to teach us, then move on. 

And as for the other business... well. 

Only a fool thinks that love is an unmixed blessing. And when it comes to Jack and Sam, hindsight isn't any help at all. 

After the summit was finished, and the President's post-treaty facility tour was done with, and the Tok'ra had left, taking Martouf with them, I felt like I'd just run through a Force 5 hurricane with weights strapped to my legs. Physically exhausted, emotionally battered. 

But I still had work to do. 

I found Sam in SG1's locker room. She was alone. Daniel had gone home, and Teal'c had gone with him. They had an excellent excuse, some ongoing Goa'uld language study they were working on, and nobody objected. 

Jack, if anything, had looked relieved. Then he'd muttered something about paperwork, and disappeared. 

At which Sam had looked relieved. 

When all my paperwork was squared away, and I finally caught up with her, she was slumped on one of the locker room benches, half in uniform, half out, looking as though she'd plain run out of gas, or forgotten what it was she was doing, or how to do it. 

"Hey," I said, as I entered the room and flicked the lock behind me. 

She raised a hand in half-hearted welcome. "Hey." 

"You okay?" 

She gave me a look. "What do you think?" 

I sat down on a bench opposite and rubbed my aching neck. "I think that as days go, this one just about scrapes the bottom of the barrel." 

"Just about?" she echoed, and her mouth twisted. "Yeah. Right." 

I'd never seen her so brittle, not even after Jolinar. I said, carefully, "I'm sorry about Martouf." 

She nodded. "Thanks." 

There was a little silence after that, during which our respective toe-tips received a prolonged, intense inspection. Eventually I said, "So. Feel like talking about it?" 

She shrugged. "What's to talk about? The amount of holes the Secret Service guys put in him, he probably would have died anyway, even with Lantash to help him heal. All I did was hasten the inevitable." 

I let out a sharp breath. "Sam..." 

Her hand came up, forestalling me. "Honestly, Janet? I don't know what I'm feeling. Me, I mean. Sam Carter. Because Sam Carter doesn't exist any more. Not the way she did before Jolinar." 

_Oh no. Not again..._ "Come on, Sam, you can't --" 

"Janet. Please. We both know it's true. Okay, so most of the time I manage to forget about it. But whenever I see... saw... Martouf --" She stopped. Regrouped. Continued, more softly, "Whenever I looked at him, I knew I loved him, desperately. But I also knew that wasn't me at all, that was her. And when he looked at me, I know he saw her, even though he never knew her in me." 

"Okay," I conceded. "It was a strange set up, I'll give you that." 

She glanced at me then, a haunted little flicker of blue. "I used to dream about him. About making love with him. But they weren't my dreams, they were hers, even though they felt.... real." 

"Oh," I said. _Ewwww._ "Um... why didn't you ever tell me that before?" 

She shrugged, pale cheeks flushing. "I don't know. Too embarrassing. It didn't happen often. Once after we first met. A few times, after the mission to Natu. Not for a while, now." 

My skin was crawling. "I'm sorry." Not very original, or constructive, but in all honesty I was a little grossed out. And tired. And did I mentioned grossed out? 

Frowning, she tugged her fingers through her hair. "I did like him, Janet. Very much. He was kind, and brave, and honourable. Totally committed to his cause. And I know he liked me for me, too, not just for what I am of Jolinar." 

"Of course he did." 

"I did the right thing." She took a deep breath, let it out in a tremulous rush. "He wanted me to kill him. To refuse would have been..." She let the sentence die. Searched for words by staring at her tightly linked hands. "Cowardly. It would have dishonoured him. Jolinar would have done it. Don't ask me how I know that, but I do. And even though she's been dead for nearly two years, I can feel her grief. I hurt, Janet, and it's not just my pain. It's hers, too, and I don't know how that can be, or what to do about it." 

I scooted along my bench till I was within touching distance of her, and took her hands in mine. They were cold. "There's nothing you can do. Jolinar aside, he was a friend and an ally and he died a horrible, tragic death. Of course you're grieving." I squeezed her fingers hard, once, and let go. "Are you blaming yourself?" 

Her answer came slowly, as though she were still working it all out. "No. Maybe." Another frown. "I don't know. What happened wasn't my fault. I know that. The Tok'ra should have tested him. It was their mistake, not ours. Not mine. But it's such a waste, Janet. A waste of a good and decent man. Men like Martouf shouldn't be lost so easily." She hesitated. Bit her lip. "But it's not my fault, so move on." 

"I know," I said. "I know. And for whatever it's worth, I think you're absolutely right, I think it was the Tok'ra's mistake. It was their show. They were the ones with all the information, not us. As usual. Besides. You had... other things... on your mind." 

There was a long silence, then, and I didn't know if she was going to take me up on the offer or not. She unslumped herself, by inches, and finished changing into her street clothes. Pulled on her jeans. Tucked in her shirt. I waited. 

With her back to me and her head low she said, "I don't know how this happened, Janet. I swear that's the God's honest truth. I have no idea. The whole idea, it's -- it's --" She kicked the locker. 

"In my experience," I said, slowly, "love rarely makes a whole lot of sense." 

She laughed, extravagantly ironic. "Try none." Then she turned and looked at me. "You knew. Didn't you." 

My turn to blush. "I... suspected." 

"When?" 

"When did I think he was seeing you differently? Or vice versa?" 

Closing her locker door, she leaned back against it, hands jammed into her pockets. "Both." 

"I realised something had changed for him when we almost lost you to Jolinar," I said. "Especially after the ashrak attacked you. He scared me. The look on his face..." I shivered, remembering. "I didn't dare let you die. After that, it's hard to say. He's got the best poker face in the business." I shook my head. "I don't know, Sam. Maybe it was the way he watches you when he thinks nobody's looking. Or the way he always asks for you first, whenever you've landed yourselves back in the infirmary. Or maybe it's that little pedestal he's got you on. The one he thinks nobody's noticed." 

She goggled at me. " _Pedestal_?" 

I had to laugh, even though things weren't funny at all. "Sam. If he were any prouder of you his chest would burst right through his fatigues. 'Carter says' is his mantra. He believes in you the way the rest of us believe in gravity and sunrises." 

From the look on her face, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I don't think I'm up to this." 

I said, "I doubt if too many other people know, Sam, if that's worrying you. You've not given anything away, or once acted inappropriately, I promise. And as for what _I_ did or didn't suspect, well, I admit there were times when I wondered. Like I said, nothing you did. Just a feeling. But after last year, I was pretty sure." 

"Edora." She pulled a face. "Longest three months of my life." 

Yes. Edora. And that woman. Laira. 

I was _so_ not going there. 

Sam said, "I knew I was in trouble when we got stuck in Antarctica. Leaving him was like cutting out my heart with a blunt bread-and-butter knife." In her jeans pockets, her fingers clenched into fists. "I nearly requested a transfer. I mean, Janet, you know the trouble this causes. You must have seen it, just like I have." 

I nodded. "Oh, yeah." And I have seen it. Careers ruined, lives pulled apart, and lots more lovely ammunition for the no-women-in-the-military brigade. Misery, gossip, ill-will, spreading like a poison for which there is no antidote. 

"The non-frat rules are there for a reason!" Sam said, taut and unforgiving. " _Good_ reason. I should have transferred..." 

"Why didn't you?" 

She pulled her hands out of her pockets and crossed her arms. Squeezed tight, her expression bleak. "Because I thought I could handle it. Because this job means everything to me. Because I would've had to say why I wanted the transfer and --" She shuddered. "I thought I could handle it. I _did_ handle it. I sat on the whole stupid idea. Wrapped it up in chains, weighted it down with concrete and dropped it to the bottom of my psyche. I mean, regulations aside, the idea of him falling for me? Insane. I'm not a girl, I'm a telescope in a C-cup." 

That made me laugh. "Sam, come on. Don't sell yourself short, I've seen you dressed up and out on the town. You are a lot more than a telescope in a C-cup, honey." 

She pulled a face. "Janet. You know how I grew up. I'm a military brat. Put me in a dress and walk me past a mirror and I'm reaching for my sidearm. Stand where you are, stranger, and get those hands in the air! When other girls my age were putting on makeup and practicing bedroom eyes, I was stripping down F16 engines wearing grease instead of blusher. I mean, yeah, okay, sure, I had boyfriends... I even managed to get myself engaged... but I never really felt like a girl. You know? I've never been any good at all that... female stuff. I live most of my life in fatigues and combat boots. Regular women accessorise with ear-rings and handbags. I spend ten minutes choosing between brands of stun grenade. It's a little hard to feel feminine in this line of work. And anyway. Four years ago, he was still in love with his wife." 

It took a moment, but I made the connection. "Four years is a long time," I said. "Sarah has another life now, and he has this one. You're a part of it. A big part. And lord knows, Sam, you've been through enough together. You've saved each other's lives, risked each other's lives, spent days -- weeks -- isolated in each other's company under stressful conditions that are about as make or break as they come. You've held each other as you lay dying, developed a level of trust that most people could never hope to experience..." 

"So?" she demanded. "Why aren't I in love with Daniel, then? Why aren't I in love with Teal'c?" 

"I don't know," I said. "Why aren't you?" 

She banged her head against her locker, eyes brilliant with dismay. "I _can't_ love him, Janet. How can I love him, for crying out loud? He's arrogant and argumentative and aggressive --" 

"And those are just the As," I added, and won myself a tiny smile. "Sam...." 

She sighed. Let go of herself, and slumped on the bench again. "He's also smart and funny and honourable and compassionate and insanely brave. He respects my intelligence. He's never once tried to protect me, or make allowances for me, or questioned my competence or..." She shook her head. "He's never treated me like a- a- _girl._ You know? When he said he didn't have a problem with women, he really meant it. I never expected that." 

"It's rare," I agreed. "And you know what else?" 

"What?" 

"He's got a great butt." 

Startled, she stared at me, mouth open. Then she laughed. Blushed some more. "Yeah. Okay. He's got a great butt," she agreed. Then, smile fading to something more complicated, continued: "He drives me crazy, Janet. When you want him to talk, he makes like a rock. When you want him to shut up, he goes on, and on, and on. He keeps beating me at pool. He says I drive too slow. He says chick flicks are for chicks. And he refuses to add tabasco to his meat loaf recipe, when everybody knows that meat loaf without tabasco is a barf fest." 

"He does?" I said. "Shame. There ought to be a law." 

"But do you know what's really terrible?" she said. Her expression was knife edged with horror. "I actually envy all those other Sam Carters out there, in all those alternate universes. The ones where I didn't join the military, and we still met, and fell in love. I envy the Sam Carter who came here. I am so _jealous_ of her. Because even though she lost him... at least she'd had him to lose. They had a year. She loved him, without reservation, without restraint, for a whole year. And he loved her. And nobody could tell them it was wrong." 

There was a sudden, fierce prickling behind my eyes. The room blurred, and cleared. "I know," I said, softly. "I know it's hard." 

She wasn't crying, but there was something worse than tears in her eyes. "I don't get to have that, Janet. For all I know, today might be the last day I ever see him. Tomorrow we could step through that 'gate, and he could die. I mean, how many times has it nearly happened? Twice in the last three months alone. And the thought of losing him before --" She closed her teeth tight. Breathed hard. Horror faded, iced over into a bleak wasteland. "There are so many things I want to say. To hear. And I can't. This isn't an alternate reality, it's _my_ reality. My world. He's my colonel, and I'm his major, and neither one of us wants to quit the military or get a transfer or risk a court martial. And even if we did want to... we can't, because we're at war, and that's more important than our feelings. So where does that leave us? Where does that leave _me_? He says we're okay to leave things just as they are, but how long will that last? How long _can_ it last? What if we can't keep on pretending? What if he starts making decisions for the wrong reasons? What if I do?" 

It was a night for hard questions. I said, "I wish I knew, Sam. I wish I could tell you." I sighed. "In my experience, keeping a cat in the bag is a hell of a lot easier than trying to put one back in, once you've let it out and it's messed on the carpet." 

She pressed her hands to her face, fingers white with tension. Muffled, she said, "My work means the world to me. And so does he. How am I supposed to choose?" 

It was a good question. And there was me, fresh out of good answers. 

"Look," I said eventually, "this is all a bit of a shock. You weren't expecting to have to deal with this today. Maybe ever. I think --" 

"Were _you_?" she said, pulling her hands away and hitting me with the hardest stare I'd ever collected from her. "Were _you_ expecting to have to deal with this? And how exactly _are_ you going to deal with it, Janet?" 

Drat. And I'd been hoping against hope that wouldn't occur to her. I was on the shakiest of shakey ground. Teal'c was fine. Teal'c was under no obligation to say a word to anyone, about anything. But not me. I was squirming on the horns of a damned sharp dilemma. I had reason to think that both Jack and Sam were compromised, and therefore I had a duty of care to report such thinking to George Hammond. Our mutual commanding officer. 

And I was about as eager to do that as give myself an unassisted root canal using an icepick, a trowel and lemonade for anaesthetic. 

Sam was still skewering me with that stare, asking for things I didn't know how to give her. And then there was a knock on the door, and a voice called, "Sam? Sam, you in there?" 

Jacob Carter. 

Sam's face froze. The stare fractured. I got up and unlocked the door. 

Jacob, comfortable in his Tok'ra uniform, hovered in the doorway, looking like a father: concerned, wary, tongue-tied. He nodded at me, offered a small, distracted smile. "Janet." 

"Jacob." 

Sam was on her feet, palms sliding up and down the legs of her jeans. "Hi, Dad." 

Jacob took a step into the room. "I came as soon as I could. Are you okay?" 

And now her arms were wrapped around her middle, and her head was down, the unruly hair falling over her face. Her breathing was strained. "Not really." 

Jacob came closer, wanting to hold her, wanting to give her space. A military man, altered now, but still... "Sammy..." 

Sam looked up. Her cheeks were drenched. "Everything's such a _mess,_ Dad," she whispered. "And I killed Martouf." 

Then Jacob reached out his arms, and she was in them, and he was holding her as she sobbed like a child whose heart is newly broken. Jacob's eyes, severe with pain, met mine. I nodded. Closed the locker room door behind me, and sat for a long time in the nearest head, where I could cry a little myself. 

Like I said. Some days just scrape the bottom of the barrel. You know? 

I left not long after that. I'd had enough, I just wanted my own home and my own bed and the feel of Cassandra's hair beneath my lips as I kissed her good night. 

Jack was in the officers' parking lot. Perched on the hood of his car, elbows propped on his knees, chin dug resentfully into closed fists. At the sound of footsteps on the concrete he looked around... and in that swift moment between hope and disappointment, I saw everything he'd been keeping secret for such a long, long time. 

It took my breath away, and made me stumble. 

My car was parked four up from his. I ignored it, and came to rest with a hip against Captain Chung's Dodge convertible, parked in all its brand new glory next to Jack's battered, dusty jeep. 

"If you're waiting for Sam," I said, carefully casual, "she might be a while. Jacob's here." 

"Ah," said Jack, and after a moment unfolded his knees and slid to the ground. He had his expression back under control, locked down tight as the Mountain in the middle of Wildfire. "Might as well head home, then." 

"Might as well," I agreed. 

But he didn't move. Just stared at the concrete wall opposite, brows knit tight in a frown. "What do you reckon?" he asked, eyes hooded and distant. "Do you reckon if I thought about it good and hard for, oh, say, a week, I could come up with another equally successful way of totally and publicly humiliating myself?" 

"I wasn't aware you considered me the public," I replied. "Or Teal'c, for that matter." 

His eyes slid sideways, looked me up and down, then returned to their intense contemplation of the exhaust grimed wall. "If I swore on a stack of bibles that I didn't know until today, would you believe me?" 

I took a deep breath. Hissed it out between my teeth. "No." 

His eyebrows shot up. "No?" 

"Jack..." I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry. But when you offered to go through with Anise's procedure, knowing it'd probably kill you, because the autopsy would help Sam..." He'd shocked me, then. Revealed a softness, a vulnerability unprecedented in four years of knowing him. "It wasn't duty motivating you at that point." 

He frowned. "No. It wasn't." He sounded unbearably sad. Slumping his weight back on the jeep's hood, he pinned his hands between his knees. "I loved Sarah," he said. "More than I could ever tell her. More than I could stand, sometimes. Didn't stop me from hurting her. I never meant to. It just happened." 

"I know," I said, softly. 

He said, not looking at me, "Talking's never come easy to me. Or sharing my feelings. But I loved her. Adored her. Didn't stop me killing my marriage, though. I killed something inside of her, too. There's a wound in her that I put there, that'll never heal even if she lives to be a hundred." 

He looked so desolate I wanted to hug him. It wasn't anywhere close to an option. "You don't know that." 

He nodded. "Yes. I do." 

"Jack..." The air in the parking lot was chilly. I blew on my fingers, tucked them under my arms to keep them warm. Yes. All right. I was stalling. Twice in one night. Sheesh. I was tired. Conflicted. The only person _I_ had to tell my troubles to was the dog, and there's only so much comfort you can get from a wet tongue and a wagging tail. "Jack, Sam isn't Sarah. And the two of you aren't married. You're not even --" I stopped. Reconsidered. "You're good friends. You mean a great deal to each other. The last four years have brought you close, in a very special, very unique way." 

He looked at me, then. "Does that mean you're not going to say anything to Hammond?" 

And in four years, we'd developed our own brand of special, unique closeness. I could no more lie to him than to my mother. "I don't know," I said. "I don't want to." 

He managed a brief, wry grin. "Guess I pretty much shot myself in the foot, didn't I?" 

"Oh, I don't know about that," I replied. "I mean, nobody actually came right out and said the 'l' word, did they? On the other hand... preferring to die rather than lose her is a bit of a give away." 

He winced. Pulled a face. "Just a bit." 

"Are you sorry?" 

"About what? That I -- care -- about her? That I got to tell her like this?" 

"Yes." 

He snorted. "No. I'm ecstatic. This has been the best day of my life." 

And that was the Jack I knew. Sarcastic. Armoured to the eyeballs. To be honest, the new improved touchy-feely Jack was kind of throwing me for a loop. 

He picked up on the thought. "What?" 

"Nothing," I replied. "Only... for a guy who's not good at sharing his feelings, you're doing a pretty good job. I guess I'm not used to you being so forthcoming. At least not without an awful lot of prodding." 

That provoked the glimmer of a smile. "Oh, I've been prodded, Janet. Good and hard." The glimmer died. "When I realised -- when I looked at her through that damned forcefield, knowing we were going to blow any minute, knowing I could no more leave her than I could --" He actually shivered. "How often do you get a second chance like this, huh? How often does life knock you on your ass, kick your teeth in for good measure, then hold out its hand to help you back on your feet again?" 

My eyes burned, and for a moment I was so jealous... "Not often," I admitted. And made myself smile. 

"She deserves a lot better than me, Janet," he said. His voice was low, and his gaze was again riveted to that damned wall. 

"That's for her to decide, surely," I said. "And in case you weren't listening, my friend, you weren't singing solo in there." 

For a moment, for the briefest moment, his eyes blazed with a triumph hot enough to ignite the world. "Maybe not." 

I confess, curiosity got the better of me at that point. And I had the feeling that if I didn't ask then I'd never know, because his uncharacteristic willingness to share wasn't going to last for ever. Probably not for another five minutes. "Just how long have you been fighting this, anyway?" 

"A while," he admitted. "I guess... since Daniel came back from the first alternate reality. Up till then, I mean... come on. Seriously. It's not like anybody's ever felt the urge to give me the Mr Congeniality Award, even on a good day. But when he told us about that Jack and Sam being engaged... I guess it made me wonder. However many versions of me there are out there, basically we're all the same guy, right? So if one Sam Carter could find a way to fall in love with one Jack O'Neill..." His voice trailed away into a sigh. "And after that, things just kept happening. Jolinar. Hathor. Aris Boch. The other other Sam. Everywhere I turned, I kept running into these... feelings. I knew it was dumb. I knew it was wrong. So I just kept on pretending that it wasn't happening." He grimaced. "I'm good at denial. I've had a lot of practice." 

"And then along came Anise with her nifty little armbands." 

He nodded. Laughed, softly, a mingling of black amusement and despair. "So I guess that means I'm fucked, huh?" 

"It's a problem," I agreed. 

"Did you talk to her before you left? Is she okay?" 

I nodded. "Yeah. I did. And no, she's not really okay." 

There were lines of pain in his face I'd never seen before. "Marty was a pretty good guy. For a snake." 

"She liked him very much. Doing what he asked... it was hard. She's grieving." 

"And I can't --" He turned his head a little. Made himself look at me. "Do you have any idea how much I want to -- how much it kills me not to --" 

"I can guess," I replied, aching. "I'm sorry, Jack. I really am." 

Abruptly, he pushed away from the jeep's hood. Walked round to the driver's door, unlocked it, opened it, then stared across the roof at me. His expression was wiped clean of pain, of desolation, of everything save a grim endurance. The caring, sharing Jack was gone, and we were back to business as usual. I didn't know whether to be relieved, or sorry. 

"I know this puts you in a tough position, Janet," he said. "I'm not going to say anything about that. You do what you have to. You'll get no grief from me." 

And then he was gone, driving away, gunning the engine and filling the cold night air with exhaust fumes as his tail lights disappeared up the ramp and out of sight. 

I went home. Endured a sleepless night. And the next day, I went to see Hammond. 

If the situation hadn't been so awful, I would have laughed out loud at the look on his face. 

"I'm sorry?" he said, incredulous. "The Colonel and the Major have done _what_?" 

"They've developed... feelings for each other," I repeated, delicately. 

"You mean they've fallen in love!" 

I sighed. "That, too." 

"When did this happen?" 

"When did they realise? A few weeks ago. During that little armband experiment. When did it all come out? Yesterday, when we re-tested them on Anise's zatarc detector. When did it start? Who knows. A long time ago, it seems." 

He stared at me, face compressed in a frown. "You know this for certain?" 

"I was there during the re-test. It was Major Carter who realised why she and the Colonel weren't really zatarcs. She confronted him, they unrepressed some things they'd both been repressing, and voila. Not zatarcs. Just... more than friends." 

"I think," Hammond said heavily, "that you'd better tell me everything." 

So, feeling ever so slightly like a traitor, I did. When I'd finished, the General sat quietly for a few moments, then wiped a hand across his face. "Damn," he said, voice softly angry. "And I never saw it coming." 

"They've worked very hard to keep it a secret sir, especially from themselves. And each other." 

"Did you suspect?" 

I offered him an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid so, sir. Yes." 

" _Damn._ " He reached for his internal phone. "This is Hammond. Page Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter and ask them to join me in my office." 

"May I ask what you intend to do, sir?" 

He shook his head in frustration. "You can ask, yes. And if I knew, I'd answer you." 

A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. Hammond replied, and in came Sam and Jack. One look at his face, at me sitting opposite, and they knew. Their faces smoothed into professional masks, and they stood to attention. Facing the firing squad. 

Hammond stared at them, his expression anything but professional. "At ease," he said. "And sit down. I think you both know why I've asked to see you." 

They pulled out the last two chairs, and sat. 

"Yes, sir," said Sam. 

"Yes, sir," said Jack. 

"It would appear that we have a... situation." 

"Yes, sir," said Jack. "Sorry, sir." 

"Me, too," Sam echoed. "I'm sorry, too, sir." 

"Which makes three of us," Hammond replied. "But sorry doesn't cut much ice, does it? I'm afraid this has put me in a very difficult position." 

Jack and Sam exchanged glances. Jack said, "We know." 

"We didn't mean to," Sam added. 

Somehow, Hammond managed a smile. "What? Put me in a difficult position, or cross the line?" 

Another exchange of glances. "Both," said Sam. 

"I know that," Hammond replied. "But you have. Now I've got to decide how best to --" 

He was interrupted by an impatient rap on the door. Before he could respond it opened, and Daniel came in, followed by Teal'c. 

All of a sudden the room was very crowded. 

Taken aback, Hammond said, crisply, "Doctor Jackson? I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you and Teal'c to come back later. I'm in the middle of a meeting and --" 

Daniel closed the door and took a step forward. "Yes, General, I know. That's why we're here." 

Eyes narrowed, Hammond leaned back in his chair and considered him. "It is, is it?" 

"Yes," said Daniel, unruffled by the look or the tone. I suppose that once you've gone up against three gods and a goddess, a mere general is hardly enough to raise your pulse rate. "You're trying to figure out what to do about Jack and Sam. I thought, since Teal'c and I are affected as much as anybody, that we should be here." 

Jack muttered something under his breath. Raised his voice and said, in no uncertain tone, "Daniel -- go away." 

Daniel frowned. "Uh -- no." 

"No?" 

Teal'c, forestalling World War III, said, "Do you deny, O'Neill, that the future of SG1 is currently under threat?" 

When Jack didn't reply, Hammond said, "There's no need to over-react here, Teal'c. The fact is, you and Doctor Jackson don't know why I'm meeting with Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter." 

The look Teal'c gave him would have withered a lesser man. "I was a witness yesterday, General, when the truth of O'Neill and Major Carter's feelings was revealed. I am aware of your rules concerning such matters. Clearly, your duty in this instance is to disband SG1. Since neither Daniel Jackson nor I wish this to happen, we have come to argue against it." 

"Exactly, Teal'c," Daniel agreed. "General Hammond, Jack and Sam aren't the only two people with something to lose, here. We all have an investment in the team, and that's something I intend to protect. I don't want this to mean the end of SG1." 

Sam said, "It's not something we want either, Daniel. But --" 

"But nothing, Sam," Daniel interrupted. "Since when did you just roll over and die when things got difficult?" 

Sam recoiled as though he'd slapped her. "For crying out loud, Daniel!" Jack snapped. "This is a military matter. You're not military. Go away." 

Stubborn as a mule, Daniel shook his head. "No. Jack, look. I know this is very embarrassing for you, but you'll just have to deal with it, okay? I mean, come on. It's not like it was some great big secret. Teal'c and I have known for ages that you and Sam had feelings for each other. We talked about it months ago, didn't we, Teal'c?" 

Teal'c nodded, gravely. "We did." 

"You did?" Jack echoed. He looked anything but pleased by the notion. Sam just looked stunned. And Hammond? Well, he looked like he was hatching a headache. 

Oh, do I know that feeling. 

Daniel, bless him, still couldn't believe they were surprised. "I'm not saying everybody on the Base knows. Probably nobody outside this room suspects a thing. I mean, it's not like you've been tripping down the corridors hand in hand singing selections from The Captain and Tenille's Greatest Hits." 

"Like _that_ would ever happen," muttered Jack. He was scowling. 

"Amen," said Sam, faintly. Without realising it, she and Jack had drawn closer together, shoulders nearly touching, on their faces identical expressions of horror. 

It was quite sweet, actually, in a bizarre kind of way. 

Blithely, Daniel continued. "Most of the time, I don't even think _you_ realised it was happening. But, you know. Ever since I came back from that first alternate reality... I always thought it was only a matter of time." 

Jack, who'd been watching Hammond's increasingly unhappy expression as Daniel danced his way unheeding through the minefield, smacked the arm of his chair. "Well, gee, Daniel, that's swell. You've been a big help. Thanks a bunch. Now don't let the door hit your ass on the way out." 

"The only way you'll get me out of here is by knocking me down and dragging me off by the heels," said Daniel, flatly. 

Jack's eyes were glinting, and his tone was dangerous. "Don't tempt me, Daniel." 

Beside him, Sam had a hand over her face. In a muffled voice she said, "Guys... please..." 

"Doctor Jackson," Hammond said heavily. "I'm not sure you appreciate the gravity of this situation. There are rules --" 

Daniel flapped an impatient, dismissive hand. "I know, I know. Non-fraternisation, anti-sexual discrimination, all that stuff. And I suppose they're a good idea, generally speaking. I'm not talking in general, though. I'm talking about us. SG1. About Jack, and Sam." 

"As am I, Doctor," Hammond agreed, quellingly. "Specifically, about how the alteration of their relationship will impact negatively on the team." 

Brusquely, Daniel shook his head. "You're wrong about that, General. Who says there has to be a negative impact? I mean, look at the Tok'ra. They've been at war with the Goa'uld for two thousand years. They don't have any non-frat rules. Look at Martouf and Jolinar! Their personal relationship lasted for - for _decades,_ but it didn't get in the way professionally. They served side by side, fought the Goa'uld, went on missions separately and together. They did just fine, and they were about as in love as you could get. Weren't they, Sam?" 

There was a short, sharp silence. Jack shot Daniel a look that should have incinerated him on the spot. Even the General gasped, just a little. Daniel, realising, winced. "Sorry, Sam, I didn't --" 

Sam lifted a hand. "It's okay, Daniel." Somehow, she kept her face and voice neutral. 

Chastened, but no less passionate, Daniel said, "All I meant, General, is that any decision you make needs to take into account the people involved. Think about it. This is Jack and Sam we're talking about. They would never do anything to jeopardise the team, the mission, the planet --" 

"Not deliberately, no," Hammond agreed. "But when feelings of this nature are involved, it is the military's opinion that --" 

"Then the military is wrong," said Daniel, firmly. "This time, anyway. I mean, Jack cares about all of us, General. He puts his life on the line for all of us. How is that going to change just because he and Sam care for each other? If that whole Cor Ai thing happened tomorrow, instead of being over and done with three years ago, do you think Jack would act any differently? Of course not. He'd defend Teal'c just as pig-headedly tomorrow as he did back then, regardless of how he feels about Sam." 

"Thank you, Daniel. I think," said Jack, with a grim forbearance. "And now that you've made your point, would you please _go away_?" 

This time, Daniel just ignored him. Kept all his quivering, passionate attention focused on Hammond. "General? You have to see that I'm right, here." 

"I understand your position, Doctor Jackson, and I sympathise," the General said. "Believe me, I do. Unfortunately, Colonel O'Neill himself has admitted that his feelings for Major Carter have already interfered in his command decision making ability." 

"Forgive me, General," Teal'c replied, "but if you are referring to the situation on Apophis' warship, then I must disagree. O'Neill ordered me to get Daniel Jackson to safety while he attempted to rescue Major Carter. That was not unusual. He has often in the past risked himself to save one of us. His feelings for Major Carter are therefore not relevant." 

"Son," the General said gently, "they are relevant if it means that Colonel O'Neill would rather lose his own life than leave a team member who cannot be salvaged. Putting it bluntly, that's not his decision. He is a tool, bought and paid for by the government, and he has an obligation and a duty to take care of himself." He turned to look at Daniel, then. "Doctor Jackson, when you were taken down by enemy fire on Apophis' attack vessel, did you ask Colonel O'Neill to leave you and complete the mission?" 

Daniel looked stricken. "Well, yes, but --" 

"And did he then leave you? Or did he stay with you, and in doing so risk his life and the lives of the remaining team members?" 

"That's different," said Daniel. "By then none of us expected to get out of there alive. It was a case of dying where we could do the most damage." 

"Perhaps. But in the case of the mission to Apophis' new warship, the only person in direct danger of dying was Major Carter. And in fact Colonel O'Neill's refusal to leave her put you and Teal'c in danger, did it not? Because you and Teal'c refused to leave until he returned safely, with or without Major Carter." 

Daniel flung up his arms. "Well, there you go. See? We're all as bad as each other. If you're going to disband the team, you might as well do it because Teal'c wouldn't go without them, or because I wouldn't go without Teal'c!" 

I snuck a look at Jack and Sam. He appeared to be possessed by a kind of horrified fascination, while Sam was staring at her knees, hands clasped white-knuckled in her lap. Both seemed quite resigned to their status as objects of discussion, no input required. 

As Hammond geared up for a rebuttal to Daniel's argument, Teal'c added, "General, I do not believe that the deepening relationship between Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter poses any threat to my life, or the safety of SG1, or the security of this planet. If I did, I would have spoken long before now. As Daniel Jackson correctly points out, these feelings have been developing over many months. Yet at no time has Colonel O'Neill attempted to excuse Major Carter from her duties, or avoided placing her in harm's way, or indeed indicated the slightest degree of favouritism towards her. Nor has Major Carter acted in any manner that could be interpreted as unprofessional. Surely this must count for something." 

"Yes, Teal'c, it does," Hammond said. "But the fact remains that any relationship between officers in a direct chain of command is against the rules, and --" 

"Forgive me, General," Teal'c said. "But am not I, an alien, the former servant of your sworn enemy, against the rules? Is not Daniel Jackson, a civilian with access to the most sensitive government information, against the rules? Did we not all break the rules when we arranged for the Nox to remove the Tollans from under Colonel Maybourne's nose? Did not I, and the rest of SG1, break the rules when we gated to Apophis' ship in an effort to prevent his attack on Earth? Did not Colonel O'Neill break the rules when he lied about detonating the bomb on Abydos? And did he not break them again when he took the child Merrin to visit Cassandra's school?" 

Daniel was staring at him admiringly. "You know, Teal'c, when this war against the Goa'uld is finally over, you should think about going to law school." 

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?" 

Sam said, "General. If I may?" 

Hammond nodded. I think he'd well and truly given up any idea of being in control of this meeting. "Go ahead." 

"We never meant for this to happen," Sam said, earnestly. "And a part of me wishes it hadn't, because it makes everything so damned hard. Especially for you. But it has happened, so now we have to deal with it. If you decide, in the best interests of team safety and national security, that I should transfer off SG1, out of the SGC, even, then... I'll abide by that decision." As Jack opened his mouth to protest, she touched his arm, lightly. Frowning, he subsided. Something of a minor miracle, really. "We have no defence in this. Technically, we are in breach of the rules. But... it wasn't deliberate, we haven't done anything to be ashamed of, and we're not going to. There is no way either of us would ever place Daniel or Teal'c, or anybody else, in danger because of how we may feel about each other. I hope you can believe that, sir." 

Hammond sighed. "Of course I can, Major. But what about yourself? Can you swear you'll never endanger yourself because of those feelings?" 

With a tight little smile, Sam said, "Well, sir, with all due respect, it's like Daniel said. I've already endangered myself, more than once, and not just for Colonel O'Neill. Putting myself in danger, for an individual or an entire planet, is part of my job description." 

"To which I would say," Hammond replied, "there is a difference between reasonable and reckless endangerment. And in my experience, love is almost guaranteed to blur that line." 

That brought Sam's chin up, and put a cold gleam in her eye. "Sir. You have my word, as an officer, that I will continue to do my job as well as I've ever done it, either in the field or here on the Base, regardless of any complications that have arisen between myself and Colonel O'Neill. Surely the salient point is whether or not two officers in a direct chain of command behave... inappropriately." A faint blush stained her cheeks. "That isn't the case here. And it never will be. At the end of the day, sir, having a feeling doesn't mean you have to act on it." 

Hammond nodded. "I'm aware of that, Major." With raised eyebrows, he considered Jack. "Colonel?" 

Jack looked up from examining his fingernails. "What she said. Sir." 

"General..." Daniel raised clenched hands, eyes bright and blue and earnest. "You know I'm not afraid to speak my mind. You know that I'll challenge Jack at the drop of a hat if I think he's wrong. We have a lot of differences. Give me ten topics, I guarantee you that he and I will disagree on nine of them. But I know him. I am safe with him. In every conceivable way that it could matter, I trust him. So should you. And that goes for Sam, too. They won't hurt us. It's not in their natures." 

I didn't dare look at Jack. I heard him shift in his chair. Thought I heard him make a sound, deep in his throat. 

The General nodded again, slowly. "Thank you, son. I appreciate your candour. And your support." He looked at Jack. "Colonel..." 

Jack sighed. "Sir... look. Let's just call a spade a spade and be done with it, shall we? Basically, we're asking you to look the other way on this. It's not fair, it's not appropriate, and it's enough to get us into a lot of trouble... but we're asking anyway. I'm sorry it's happened like this, I really am... but I'm not sorry it's happened. If that makes me unfit for duty, then so be it. All I can do is give you my word, as an officer and a slightly scruffy gentleman, that I will never do anything that could make you regret trusting me. Or us." 

"I know that, Jack," the General said gently. "Believe me, son. I do." He looked at me. "Doctor Fraiser? Since this has turned into something of a summit meeting... have you any thoughts you'd like to share?" 

And there I was, hoping against hope he'd forgotten all about me. I bit my lip. Looked into the faces of my friends, and said, "Yes, sir. I have. While I don't for a second doubt the sincerity of anybody's statements or feelings, the fact remains that when two people's emotional relationship changes, in either a positive or a negative way, there are repercussions that aren't always within their ability to control. Even though they might want to, even though they have every good intention of doing so. It just isn't that simple." 

Jack was looking at me as though I'd somehow betrayed him. "You saying I can't control myself?" 

"What happened to not giving me any grief?" I replied, with more of an edge to my voice than I'd intended. But dammit, I thought he'd meant it... 

"Changed my mind," Jack said, equally sharp. "Thought you knew me better than that." 

So. The gloves were off, were they? He should have known _me_ better. I turned back to the General. "Sir. You asked for my medical opinion, so here it is. Human emotions are powerful, and unpredictable. You can't give them orders and expect them to obey. You can't program them like you would a computer. And they have the damnedest way of running amok just when you least expect it, or can afford it." 

Sam started to say something then, but Jack cut her off. "That is bullshit. I've spent the last twenty years controlling my emotions, in circumstances you don't want to hear about third hand, _Doctor,_ let alone experience for yourself. You can accuse me of being rude, abrasive, tactless, hard-nosed, unkind or ruthless and you won't get an argument. But don't you _ever_ accuse me of being unprofessional." 

"Or me," Sam added. She was flushed again, but it was with anger this time. "Do you really think I'd risk people's lives, Janet?" 

I took a deep, calming breath. Reminded myself not to take it personally. This was an emotional subject, people were bound to get emotional. "Not on purpose, no," I replied, and met her hot gaze as coolly as I knew how. "But --" 

"No!" she snapped. "No 'but'. I think you're forgetting something here, Janet. This situation has been going on for a long time. We've been operating as a team, and having these feelings, for months and months. Nothing has to change." 

"It already has changed, Major," I pointed out. "Before yesterday, what you felt was unacknowledged and, for all you knew, unreciprocated. Now it's out in the open, and it's mutual. So don't _you_ insult _me_ by sitting there and insisting that nothing's changed!" 

"Okay, things have changed!" Sam all but shouted at me. "That doesn't mean we're going to turn into a pair of raving sex maniacs who can't control themselves or their feelings! _God_!" 

"Cool it, Carter," Jack murmured. 

She turned on him. "No, I won't cool it. I expect to hear this kind of crap from misogynistic military dinosaurs, not from another woman. Not from somebody who knows me, knows you, knows _us._ " She glared at me, then, with a hostility I'd never seen before. It hurt. "What do you think, Janet? That we're going to sneak off for a quickie behind a rock somewhere in the middle of a mission?" 

It took everything I had, but I kept my voice steady. "What I think, Sam, is that loving someone as a friend, the way you love Daniel, and loving them as someone you don't want to live without, the way Jack loves you, are two very different things. I mean, have you actually stopped to _think_ about this? _He wouldn't leave you._ He chose to die rather than live without you. Do you really want that on your conscience?" 

"Here's what I don't want," Sam retorted. "I don't want to be judged and condemned for something that hasn't happened. I don't want you, or anybody, but _especially_ you, jumping on that 'women can't be trusted around men in the military' bandwagon. I don't want to be punished for something that wasn't revealed by choice and that I have successfully kept out of the professional arena for the last three years!" 

In the silence that followed, Jack shifted in his chair and looked at her. " _Three years_?" he murmured, eyebrows raised. Sam just shook her head, and closed her eyes. Teal'c and Daniel exchanged eloquent glances. Hammond squinted at his desk blotter, as though his headache was getting worse. 

I know mine was. 

"Sam," I said, "whether you believe it or not, I am motivated only by concern for you. And the Colonel. And the rest of SG1." To Hammond, I added, "You asked for my opinion, sir, and you have it. Under the circumstances, I don't think it's wise for Colonel O'Neill or Major Carter to continue serving on the same team." 

"I see," said General Hammond. Very circumspect. Not giving anything away. "Thank you, Doctor. Thank you, all of you, for your willingness to discuss this very difficult matter so openly. I know it hasn't been easy for you, and I appreciate it." 

Jack and Sam mumbled something in reply. Teal'c nodded. Daniel said, with a rueful smile, "For better or worse, General, SG1 is my family. I've already lost two. Losing a third would be extremely... careless." 

Hammond smiled back at him, equally rueful. "I know." Squaring his shoulders, setting his hands flat to the desk top, he continued, all military briskness, "Obviously, people, this isn't a decision I can make lightly, or without a great deal of thought. All I can say for now is that I promise I shall think long and hard about what to do, and that when I make my decision, it will have been with careful consideration of everything you've said here today. Dismissed." 

After a certain amount of shuffling, we found ourselves in the corridor. Daniel immediately turned on me. "What the hell was that, Janet? I can't _believe_ you --" 

As one, Jack and Sam said, "Shut up, Daniel." 

Startled, he trained his outraged blue gaze on them. "What?" 

Jack said, "She gave her honest opinion, just like you did. It may be wrong, but she's entitled to it. Let it go." 

"Let it go?" Daniel echoed. "She just shot us down in flames, Jack. Hammond's never going to keep us intact now. It's over." 

"It's never over till it's over," Jack said. "Stop being such a defeatist." 

"I'm sorry," I said. "I know it wasn't what you wanted to hear. I wish I could have said I am okay with this, but I'm just not. It has nothing to do with thinking you're unprofessional, or incompetent, or anything like that." 

"What does it have to do with, then?" said Sam. There remained the faintest whisper of anger beneath her words. 

"One of my functions," I replied, carefully, "is to act as the neutral observer. I'm trained to see the differences between normal, and abnormal, be that in bodily functions, or behaviour. As an outsider, I'm in the best position to tell whether or not symptoms are about to erupt into a full blown disease." 

"Fine," said Sam. "Except in this case, you weren't even sure there _were_ any symptoms. Were you? So how can you be so damned certain there's going to be a disease?" 

"I may not be able to predict it with 100 percent certainty," I said, "but I can tell you this. After yesterday, it's looking more likely." 

"With all due respect, Janet, that is only an opinion. It's nowhere near a fact," Sam retorted. The whisper was louder now, and her eyes were hard. 

Jack touched her. Brushed his hand against her shoulder. One fleeting instant of contact, and she softened. Eased down. In the flickering of her eyes to his, the hint of an apology. He said, "She's just doing her job, Carter. There's no need for this to get tense." 

It took a long moment, but Sam finally smiled at me. "I know. I'm sorry. If we can't be honest with each other, we're all wasting our time. It's good that you're here to keep an eye on things. We'd be in trouble if you weren't." 

"Okay," I said, and couldn't trust myself to say more than that. The thought of Sam and I fighting... of any threat to our friendship... it was unbearable. I felt as though someone had just plucked me back from the edge of a crumbling cliff. "Okay." 

"You are wrong, you know," Jack added, eyebrows raised at me. "I just hope we get the chance to prove it to you." 

I didn't know what to say to that. 'Me, too' implied that I was okay with them staying as a team. That wasn't true. 'I don't' would have sounded... mean. I settled for an ambiguous smile. 

Nobody was fooled. But there was nothing to say that hadn't already been said, and the ground beneath our feet was still uncertain. 

We let the matter lie there. 

"Come on, kids," said Jack. "We've got a mission briefing to prepare. Until Hammond makes up his mind, we're still SG1. Let's move on." 

"And don't forget your urine samples for the pre-mission medical this time," I called after them as they drifted down the corridor. "No beer with dinner tonight, anybody, or I'll skin you alive." 

Jack's voice floated back to me from around the corner. "Nag, nag, nag... anybody'd think she had a medical degree..." 

Ha funny ha. Some people think they're _so_ amusing. 

The next day, in his office, Hammond over-ruled me. 

"It's not that I think you're wrong," he told me. "There's a chance you might well be right. But the fact is, Janet, I owe them the benefit of the doubt. At least for now. God knows, they've sacrificed enough for this planet over the last four years. I trust them to play within the rules. And I trust them to tell me the minute they think they can't do that any more." 

I had to say it. "Sir, you're going out on quite a limb, here." 

"I know that," he said, gravely. 

"Well," I said, "it's your decision, sir." 

He smiled, fiercely. "Indeed it is." 

"Do you really think this can work?" 

He picked up his pen, tapped it end to end on his desk blotter. "Well, Doctor, if it doesn't, it won't be for want of trying." He smiled again, more gently. "Janet, think about it. All that's really changed here is that something that was imperfectly hidden is out in the open. Do you honestly think that anything else is going to change? Can you imagine, for example, Jack O'Neill marching up to Sam Carter, in public, and -- and -- giving her a great big kiss? Because I sure as hell can't!" 

I had to admit, it sounded unlikely. "I'm sorry, General. I don't mean to question your decision. But I can't help worrying." 

"I know," Hammond said. His fingers tips were white on the pen. "But dammit, I don't much care for the idea of losing my best team because of a Tok'ra snafu! As it was we nearly lost them over that damned business with the armbands and now, thanks to this zatarc disaster, if it weren't for Major Carter's insight both she and O'Neill could be lying in the morgue as we speak! Graham, Astor and McClaine _are_ in there. That's more than enough to be going on with, don't you agree?" 

"It was a close call, sir, yes," I said. "The Tok'ra are proving to be very expensive allies. But I don't see what that has to do with the matter at hand. Where interpersonal relationships are concerned, the rules are the rules and they allow no leeway for interpretation." 

"I know that!" Hammond snapped. "I spent all last night thinking about it. But have you thought about this? If I accept your recommendation and break up the team, what if Jack O'Neill decides that he can fight the Goa'uld just as easily _out_ of uniform as in? Because if I push this, Janet, if I do what you want and stand one of them down from SG1, I wouldn't put it past him to go elsewhere, and continue the fight someplace where the idea of who's feeling what about whom doesn't matter a tinker's cuss. And if he goes, do you really think Sam won't go with him? And Daniel? And Teal'c?" 

That rattled me. I hadn't even _considered_... "Sir, I don't --" 

The General raised the pen, silencing me. "Just think about it for a minute, Doctor. We ask one hell of a lot from the SGC teams. As support personnel, you and I have it relatively easy around here. And what's more, we get to have private lives, if we want them, that involve love and family and children. We make plans, and we have a reasonable expectation that we'll get to see those plans bear fruit. Can you honestly say the same about the SG field units?" 

He had me there, dammit. Over the last four years, it had been my unhappy experience that as far as the teams were concerned, and with all due respect to Mr Lennon, _death_ was what happened to you while you were busy making other plans. 

"I know, sir," I said, "but --" 

"How many times have we chalked Jack up as lost, Janet? How many times has he actually died, and somehow been resurrected? Dear God, by now he must have frequent flyer points to the After Life. And that's not even starting on his injury record. His medical file is twice as thick as anybody else's here. And Sam's not much better. How can I ask them to risk their lives, day in and day out, for as long as I need them to, and at the same time expect them to forsake any kind of happiness, no matter how meagre, even if it's just a matter of spending time together and nothing more, when the next sunrise they see could be their last? Hell, why _should_ they?" 

Carefully, I said, "Sir, I understand how you feel. I do. But military law clearly states --" 

Hammond snorted. "This place isn't the regular military. In fact, it's about as far from the regular military as you can get! And I'll be _damned_ if I'm forced to apply regular military rules!" 

"Sir, you'll be setting a dangerous precedent," I said, as worried for him as anybody else. "SG1 isn't the only mixed gender team." 

"I am aware of that," the General replied, gently sarcastic. "And I will cross that bridge when, and if, I come to it. However, while I concede the possibility, I would also have you note that men and women have been working together in a variety of environments for many years now. Working with a member of the opposite sex does not automatically guarantee you'll fall in love with him or her. Does it?" 

I sighed. "No, sir." 

"Furthermore, it's only a precedent if everybody knows about it, and since this development is staying well below radar..." 

I sighed again. "You've made some good points, General," I said. "But if you'll forgive me for being blunt, I'm wondering which one of us you're trying to convince." 

He burned me with a glare, then, that nearly sent me running for the door. No wonder Jack backs down in their infrequent confrontations. And then the heat cooled, and the General managed a smile. "I know," he admitted. "I know I have no legal, officially approved legs to stand on here. What I do have is their word that nothing improper has happened, or will happen. If I refuse to accept that, then I'm afraid I'll... damage... something. Something that would be, quite frankly, impossible to mend." 

"Sir, both Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter are career military. They'd understand ." 

Hammond frowned. "Yes, Doctor, they probably would. Probably, Jack wouldn't take his bat and his ball and his team, and go find somewhere else to play. But that's not a chance I'm prepared to take right now. They're too valuable an asset to risk." 

"All the SG teams are, General," I said. "By giving SG1 preferential treatment --" 

"I'm not doing that," Hammond snapped. "If they were sleeping together and I sanctioned it, then yes. That would be preferential treatment. Then they would be in flagrant breach of the rules and I'd have no choice but to act. But that's not the case here." 

"Yes, sir, I know, but --" 

He shook his head, cutting me off. "Think about it for a moment, Doctor. What exactly is SG1? A civilian, an alien, a Colonel who's earned himself a court-martial on five separate occasions, and a Major who's been taken over by an alien parasite and now possesses memories of a life she never lived. By rights they should have been disbanded a dozen times, or more. Don't think it hasn't been suggested, either. But I haven't done it, and do you know why? Because they are unique. They have succeeded against the enemy _because_ of who they are, not despite of it. They have prevailed against unimaginable odds, over and over again... and they did it even though two of them share feelings that the military chooses to deem inappropriate." 

"That's true," I agreed. "But even so --" 

He held up a hand, forestalling me. "What if," he said, doggedly, "they keep on beating the odds _because_ of those feelings? What if, at the end of the day, it's -- I hesitate to use the word, but what the hell -- _love_ \-- that keeps them going? Not just between Jack and Sam, but all of them? Love, in all its many shades and meanings. Separately, they're talented, highly competent individuals. Together, they're... something I've never before encountered in forty years of service. I saw it in 1969, and I see it today. I won't risk that. I don't care what the rules say. I won't." 

"So... you'll risk your own career, instead?" 

That made him laugh. "You think I haven't risked it before, more than once, for Jack O'Neill? And the rest of them? Don't you worry about me on that score, Doctor. As far as I'm concerned, it's the safest bet going. Besides," he added, shrugging, "I'm a two star general on his last tour of duty. Do I look like I care what the stuffed shirts in Washington think?" 

I smiled back. "No, sir, I would have to say that you do not." 

"Damn right," said Hammond, and tossed aside his pen. "Dismissed." 

So that was that. SG1 was still SG1. And on the surface of it, nothing's changed. Jack still calls Sam 'Carter', and Sam still calls Jack 'sir'. She still gets carried away with her technobabble, and he still shouts at her to just shut up and say yes or no, for crying out loud. He still keeps sending her into harm's way, and she still keeps going. And he still looks up at her as she stands on her pedestal, believing in her like gravity and sunrises, and she still keeps smiling down at him, saving the world every time he asks her to. 

And if, when they think nobody else, or even each other, is watching... if sometimes, what it costs them to carry on as though 'just good friends' is the summit and apogee of their ambition, if that pain blazes bright and brief as a falling star in their weary eyes... well. 

I did say, didn't I, that anybody who thinks that love is an unmixed blessing is a fool. 

So... I was worried, but I wasn't sorry. It sounds crazy, I know. So sue me. Despite everything, it would have broken their hearts if the General had sided with me. Even so, I meant what I said. Sooner or later, I was afraid the bubble would burst, as it nearly had on Apophis' fancy new warship. I was afraid that one day, in the heat of catastrophe, someone's heart would over-rule their head, and it all would end in blood and tears. 

It hasn't so far, but I'm still afraid. 

All I can do is take it one day at a time, and say my prayers. 

Hard. 

**~ The End ~**

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>   
>  © August 25, 2000 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.  
> 

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